Chapter One (Rough)

 

Jada ran swiftly through the trees. The forest was her only hope for escape. Mayor Trask had proclaimed her witch and outlaw after one of her episodes happened in the village commons. Now people she had known her entire life, some that she had counted as her friends, were chasing her with the intent kill her. First they would torture her into confessing that she was a witch then they would burn her.

            The episodes had started just after her mother had died in the autumn of a sudden sickness that no one could put a name to. Her mother had been the village healer; she hadn’t had an apprentice, so there was no one to help her when she fell so seriously ill. Jada had buried her mother in a secluded spot in the thick forest that surrounded the village, a spot where her mother frequented to cultivate wild herbs that had refused to grow in her garden. Whenever she visited the grave or thought of how she longed to leave this place, a strange feeling would sweep through her. It felt like insects were crawling under her skin, but strangely the feeling wasn’t bad, only odd. After a while, if the feeling continued for more than a moment, her skin would begin to glow and waver like still water that had been disturbed.

            She could feel something inside her straining, stretching to become something else, and that thought made her panic. The fear coursing through her pushed back whatever it was inside her that was trying to change, the light would fade from her skin and the crawling would taper off to nothing. She would be left shaken, heart pounding, but otherwise fine.

These episodes occurred with more and more frequency as time passed. By the time spring had melted the winter away Jada was afraid to leave her home for fear that an episode would happen in public. When she was forced to leave the house by necessity she covered as much of herself as she could without arousing suspicion. She wore long sleeve blouses, tucked her trousers into knee high boots and wore gloves to cover her hands and a light shawl that she could use as a hood whenever she left the house.

Most days she would go into the wood to forage for edible plants, berries and nuts that her mother had taught her were good to eat. No one knew plants better than a healer.  She spent hours following game trails and setting snares. The forest provided almost everything she needed to survive.

When the forced solitude began to wear on her, she would sometimes spend the entire day at her mother’s grave, breathing in the scent of the wild herbs that still grew around the clearing, and letting the episodes last longer and longer before she let her fear overwhelm her. She discovered that she could control whatever was happening to her even without the fear, but she could not always banish the glow and the crawling without being afraid of what was happening.

On the day that spring grew warm enough to be called summer, Jada went into the village, covered toe to neck, to trade for items that the forest didn’t provide. She had long since run out of butter, eggs, and flour. She walked through the village in high spirits; she greeted those who called out to her with a smile and wave. She stopped at many market stalls, looking over wares and debating whether to splurge on a new pair of gloves or a new scarf.

She was in the middle of a haggle when she felt the crawling start.

From experience, she knew that she had only moments before her skin began to glow. She quickly settled with the merchant she had been haggling with, who gave her an odd look as she walked quickly away. The crowd at the market impeded her as she tried desperately to find a way through the throng. When she had pushed her way through to the edge of the market, she started to run, dodging around groups of people and running as fast as her long legs could take her. She was nearly to the edge of the village when she could feel her skin beginning to glow.

That’s when she ran into the Mayor.

Mayor Trask was middle aged, before being elected as Mayor he had been a hostler. His lifetime of caring for horses had given him strength that belied his thin, angular frame. He grabbed Jada as she fell, lifted her back to her feet and looked her in the face as he began to ask whether she was alright. His face paled at the sight of her glowing skin. “Witch,” he whispered.

He let go of her like she was scalding hot and stepped away from her. “You’re a witch,” he said, louder this time. “A witch in our village, sent here by the Gods to test our faith.”

Jada stepped slowly around the wild eyed Mayor and backed slowly down the path that would lead her to the forest. “I’m not a witch,” she nearly sobbed. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I am not a witch.”

Mayor Trask jumped when she spoke. “’Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ that is what the Gods tell us. She must be burned for the good of the village. A witch will spread the heresy of chaos among the weak; she will bend the truth to her will to make believers abandon the true path.” His voice grew stronger as he spoke. Villagers were stopping to see what the commotion was.

Dunn the blacksmith stepped up to Mayor Trask and asked him what was the matter in a quiet voice that seemed misplaced coming from such a large man.

Mayor Trask turned to Dunn and screamed, “THAT GIRL IS A WITCH!” He pointed a talon like finger in Jada’s direction and grabbed Dunn by his heavy smith’s apron. “That girl has been sent to destroy our village! She will use her dark powers to rend us from the path of the Gods! SHE IS A WITCH I TELL YOU!”

Jada looked around at the faces of the crowd and was horrified to see the instant belief in their eyes. “I am not a witch!” she sobbed. Her declaration did nothing to change the expressions on the villagers’ faces. Panic was coursing through her, but it did nothing to stop the glowing of her skin.

“Grab her! She must be burned!” Someone in the crowd shouted. The cry was taken up, and two men moved to take hold of Jada’s arms.

Jada saw them coming and ran.

She made it to the wood steps ahead of the two men who had stepped forward to grab her, but once she reached the trees their steps became hesitant. For most of those in the village the forest was not a welcoming place, but it had always felt like home to Jada. She dodged among the trees like a deer in flight, instinctively knowing where to put her feet to avoid roots and when to duck to avoid branches.

She could hear the men crashing through the undergrowth behind her. They had overcome their fear of this place in the face of their desire to see her burn.

An arrow flew past her and struck a tree. A huntsman had joined the chase. The huntsmen of the village were well known for their prowess at tracking and running game to ground.

Jada twisted mid-stride to change direction away from the path the arrow had taken. She kept the thick trunks of the ancient trees between herself and the huntsman. She could barely hear his running steps through the undergrowth; he knew enough woodsman-ship to barely make noise as he passed among the trees. Every time she heard the twang of a bowstring being released, she changed direction and the arrows zipped passed her like bees.

The trees around her began to look unfamiliar and Jada was forced to slow down enough to see where she was. She was breathing hard and an ache was coming to life in her side. She passed through a clearing with a small stream passing through it. She stopped long enough to bend for a quick drink and was turning to run back into the trees when the hunter burst into the clearing.

He held his bow ready to fire, pointed straight at her heart. Jada froze and stood shaking, panting from the exertion of running for so long, and waiting for him to loose the arrow. A moment passed in tense silence before the hunter took a step into the light of the clearing. “Bren—?” Jada gasped and took a step forward, unmindful of the arrow still aimed at her.

As a child Jada had played with Bren and his younger brothers on many occasions. Their mothers had been friends, and would visit each other daily, dragging their children along with them. When Jada’s mother, the village’s healer, had to spend the night with sickly patients she would send Jada to stay with Bren’s family. Bren had been her hero.

Bren raised the arrow, tightening his draw on the string threateningly. “Are you a witch?” he asked earnestly between deep breaths.

Jada’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Of course I’m not a witch! I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I am not a witch!” She gasped. “How could you believe that of me Bren, when you’ve known me my entire life?”

            Bren studied her for a moment, and slowly eased the tension on his bow, tucking the arrow back into the quiver strapped to his belt. “No, I didn’t think you were.” He said quietly.

            Jada sagged against the nearest tree in relief. “Then why have you been shooting at me?” She asked tiredly.

“Because I was trying to lead you here; I figured you’d stop to drink at the stream and give me time to catch up to you. You never could run for very long without stopping for a drink.” A slight grin flitted across his lips as he unstrung his bow and slid it into the case that hung across his back. “What is it that you feel when your skin is glowing like that?” He asked, watching her intently, like he was still thinking of her as something to be hunted.

Jada sighed and dug the fingers of both of her hands into the thick, dark hair at her temples, propping her elbows on her raised knees. “Like there’s something crawling under my skin,” she said dejectedly. “But it’s not bad, or gross. It’s just strange, like something is supposed to happen, but it never does. That’s how it starts anyway, with the crawling. After awhile my skin just starts glowing, like I swallowed a candle, or the sun. It’s like there’s something inside of me that wants to get out, something that for the moment is tame, but won’t be forever.”

“Why don’t you just let it out?” he asked as he sat down on the grass to face her.

Tears came to her eyes as she whispered, “I don’t know how.” She wiped away her tears in frustration. “I don’t know how to let it out, but every time I have an episode it gets stronger. I used to be able to push it back with my fear, then I learned to force it to my will, but it’s not working anymore.” She held up her still glowing hands and waved them in front of him. “It just won’t stop! I can feel it pushing to be set free and I don’t know how to stop it, or set it loose!”

He caught her hands and used them to pull her to him. He tucked her head onto his shoulder and put his arms around her. “Shh, it will be okay,” he whispered into her hair.

Jada let out a sob and clung to the hunter like a child while she buried her head in his shoulder and cried. The tension that she had been holding back was washed away with her tears. As her sobs lost their force and her tears slowed to a trickle, the glow gradually faded away along with the crawling she felt under her skin.

“I think I know some people who can help you. They’re kind of shy, so it may take some time to find them, or rather for them to find us. Will you trust me to guide you to them?” He asked earnestly.

Jada pulled away from him slowly, stood and went to the stream. She splashed the chill water over her face and rubbed her tear swollen eyes. For a moment she just watched her distorted reflection on the surface of the water. She had had few chances to see herself reflected, and she had never seen herself looking so pale and wan. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks seemed more hollow than they had been.

She heard a noise behind her and turned to watch Bren. He had shrugged out of his pack and was digging through it to retrieve something from its depths. He finally pulled out a hard leather flask, and joined her at the water’s edge to fill it.

She regarded him in silence for a moment. “These people,” she began hesitantly. “They, they won’t think I’m a witch?”

Bren’s dark brown eyes met her golden ones as he pushed his flask under the water’s surface. “No, not at all. They may think you’re strange, but I’m sure you’ll think the same of them.” He smiled a little as he spoke. He pulled the now full flask from the water, capped it and wiped his wet hand across one leg to dry it.

“Strange…” she said idly. “I suppose I don’t really have any choice; I can’t go back to the village; I don’t know anywhere else to go; and I can’t just stay in the forest forever. I guess I’m with you and your strange friends.” She signed. “Lead the way.”

Bren grinned. “Good.” He went to his pack and stowed the flask in one of its many pockets, rummaging among the others for something else. He found want he was looking for in one of the large side pockets, pulled out a strip of jerky and tossed it to Jada.

Jada reached out and grabbed it from the air with a dexterity she hadn’t known she possessed. She sniffed it delicately and her mouth watered at the savory aroma. She bit off a piece and chewed as she waited for Bren. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she swallowed the first bite; she took another quick bite to appease the growl that emanated from her stomach.

“We can eat while we walk,” Bren said as he pulled a cloak from the pack. It was a soft brown color that seemed to shift in the light. “Here, this will help you blend in more. If by chance we run into someone from the village out here, which I doubt, but if we do—run. Don’t wait for me, and don’t look back. Just run. Find someplace to hide, up a tree, or under a thicket, and stay there. I’ll find you, and if I don’t—well, keep going west. Eventually you’ll come to the territory of the people I told you about, or you’ll find the end of the forest.” He swung the cloak around her shoulders, tying the strings loosely at her throat. “I’m serious Jada, run. I don’t need you getting hurt for me, do you understand me?”

She nodded silently and looked up at him. “Why are you helping me?” she asked quietly. “Even considering the fact that we used to be friends when we were children, it doesn’t explain your willingness to help me now. You do realize that if anyone figures out that you’re helping me you could be burned as a witch too, don’t you?”

His eyes met hers and flinched away. Bren sighed heavily and turned back to his pack. He pulled another piece of dried meat from the pocket for himself and slung the pack on his back. “Some debts must be repaid,” he spoke softly, as if he didn’t really want her to hear. “Let’s go,” he said shortly and started off at a brisk pace into the trees.

Jada stood for a moment in the clearing, wondering if she had made the right choice, then ran to catch up to Bren.

They walked in silence for hours. Bren kept the pace quick, which allowed little opportunity for conversation. They didn’t stop to rest until nearly sundown and by that time Jada had completely forgotten about her unanswered question. They had paused briefly in their trek while Bren shot at some game; thanks to his prowess with the bow they had two plump rabbits for dinner. They made a meager camp at the base of an ancient pine. Jada gathered fallen tree limbs and sticks for a fire while Bren cleaned and prepared the rabbits for dinner. They waited for the rabbits to cook, spitted over the fire in silence. The smell of roasting meat soon had Jada’s mouth watering. Neither spoke while they ate.

When it was full dark, Bren finally broke the silence. “I’ll take first watch.” He said. Jada looked at him quizzically. “There are predators in the forest, big enough predators for us to be concerned. The fire should be enough to keep them away, but I’d rather take no chances.”

Jada nodded. “Alright, but I should warn you, I’ve never drawn a bow. I don’t think I’ll be very much use if something does attack us.”

Bren shrugged. “All you have to do is wake me,” he pulled his bow from its case and strung it. “I’ll leave my bow strung while I sleep.”

He walked a few steps out of the light of the fire and pulled himself up into the branches of a nearby tree. He settled himself against the trunk; bow in hand, eyes already searching the surrounding forest for signs of danger.

Jada pulled Bren’s pack closer to the small fire and lay down, using the pack as a pillow. She pulled the cloak around her and settled in to a comfortable position, her back to the tree Bren sat in. She was nearly asleep when she heard Bren speak.

“Jada, are you asleep?” he paused briefly waiting for an answer.

“No,” she said quietly without turning over.

Bren was silent for a moment. Jada thought he hadn’t heard her and was about to speak again when Bren started talking. “My mother, when she was young, had an older sister, they were very close. My aunt, she could make things grow. She could plant a seed one day and the next it was sprouting, and the day after it was blooming. It was a secret they kept together, knowing that if anyone else knew, they could both be burned.” He paused for a moment and sighed heavily.

“The old woman who lived next to them, she was jealous of my mother’s family’s garden, which was always full of flowering plants. One day the old woman hid behind a barrel and watched my aunt tending the garden, saw her touching the plants and making them grow. The next day, the mayor came to my mother’s house and demanded that my aunt be handed over to be tried as a witch and burned. She didn’t stand a chance. She never told them that my mother knew, she kept denying that anyone in her family knew, said she had kept it a secret from everyone. They burned her and scattered her ashes in the river. My mother still cries. She’ll start saying something about my aunt and break down into tears. My family was shunned for years after, to this day most people in the village won’t say more than a few words to us at a time.”

Jada kept silent, knowing that he wouldn’t want her sympathy.

“But not your mother. She spoke to us like we were still people; she never treated us differently because of my aunt. If anything she went out of her way to be kind to us. During summer, a few years ago, my little brother got sick, real sick. Your mother spent three weeks at our house trying to make him better. I never thought he was going to make it, but your mother healed him.”

He fell silent for a moment. Jada could hear him wiping his face with his sleeve. “That’s why I’m helping you. Some debts must be repaid, and I’ll be damned by all the gods if I let the daughter of the greatest woman I ever knew be burned alive.”

Jada wiped tears from her own eyes and rolled over to face the tree that Bren sat in. “I never knew Bren, Mother never said anything about it. I always wondered why none of the other boys your age would play with you; I guess I just never thought to ask. Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Get some sleep now,” Bren said gruffly. “Your watch will come sooner than you think.”

Jada rolled back over, smiling, and was soon asleep.